An Appreciated Weakness
by That Fantasy Junkie 96
Summary: Thranduil has always seemed cold. When a young Aragorn pulls Legolas away from his duties, the King of the Woodland Realm is furious. The ranger finds out some things he never knew about the Lord of the Greenwood, like the reasoning behind his strict parenting. One-shot.


**I've written a few fanfictions, but I was very hesitant about writing a Tolkien one because I was afraid that I would not do him justice. I eventually got over this and wrote a Hobbit one. That was my first step and now this is my last one. I hope I do him justice. Btw, I am not that intelligent for busting out the Elvish, it's easy to look up. I just wanted to be authentic.**

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Their voices were hushed, but Aragorn understood that it was a harsh conversation. Legolas was hundreds of years old, but for an Elf he still had many centuries of youth left in him. He should've been able to relax, to forget for a moment that he was the son of a king, a legacy needing to be fulfilled.

Aragorn didn't want to cause a rift between his friend and his austere father. He just wanted to give Legolas a sense of freedom that he hadn't had for a long time. Although, Aragorn speculated that a significant rift existed between the two long before he came into the fold.

As Thranduil grabbed his son's arm and pulled him aside, Legolas chose to have their conversation in the common tongue. It was most likely out of courtesy for Aragorn who was eavesdropping, even though he knew that his friend's Elvish was flawless.

"_Ada (father)_, you are over-reacting," Legolas's even voice tried its best to instill some sense into his stubborn father. "For one day may I forget my duties as a prince? For one day may I be like a normal Elf my age?"

"You want to cast aside your heritage because it burdens you so?" Thranduil snapped with an acrimonious undertone.

"No, that is not what I meant. I just wonder if it is necessary for me to act like a prince every day of my life. _Ada_, I will never leave my post as your heir, but I want my space." Legolas attempted to grip his father's hand in encouragement, but Thranduil pulled away as though his son was a stranger.

"You _are_ a prince. You are my son, a reflection of me, and I expect you to conduct yourself as such, not as some playmate to a neglectful boy turning away from the esteemed Dúnedain line. He has some kind of negative effect on you. He has made you lazy and indifferent. Does it give you joy to rebuff your father? All I do is provide the best advice I can to running our glorious kingdom and you brush it over your shoulder."

"_Ada_, stop. This land is where my heart lies. These people are where I lay my soul and with you is where I keep my trust. _Goheno nin (forgive me)_."

Thranduil crossed his arms, utterly dissatisfied with his son's answer. "Forgive you? That is rich. If you want my forgiveness then you should start with sending that outcast ranger to whichever land he hails from. He is not welcome with us."

Considerable hurt shined in Legolas's luminous blue eyes, that were mirror's of his father's, but Thranduil's were cold.

"_Ada_, you speak foolishly. He is the son of kings. A beacon of hope for Men. Any member of the Dúnedain should be welcome here."

"Speak carefully,_ lonneg (son)_. Say no such thing of your own father. He leaves tomorrow morning."

"Is there a point in trying to sway you otherwise?"

Thranduil laughed softly and raised his eyebrow. "What do you think?"

Legolas sighed. "I am tired."

"_Ollo Vae (sleep well)_."

Legolas passed Aragorn on his way to bed. His footsteps were unbelievably soft. Growing up it Rivendell, Aragorn learned the customs, the language, and the skills of the Elves, but he knew that he had nothing close to his friend's ease and grace.

Turning, the Elven prince looked the ranger in the eye. "I am sorry, _Mellonamin (my friend)_. I am sure that I can get him to change his mind once he has calmed down."

"Not necessary," Aragorn insisted. "Perhaps I can try."

"My father does not take to you."

"Does he not? Then it should be interesting," Aragorn said with a smirk.

Legolas smiled. "To think all of this because we went riding. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." After he disappeared, Aragorn walked to Thranduil. The Elven king took one look at him and scoffed.

"Are you here to plead your case?"

"No," Aragorn answered calmly. "I am here to plead his."

"Leave my son out of this. I will discipline him accordingly."

"Discipline? He needs no discipline. He needs your acceptance."

"Do not tell me how to be a father to him. What he needs is a good example from me. I am his father, the only one teaching him right from wrong. I cannot show any weakness." Thranduil raised his chin to wait for Aragorn's answer. His straight, silver-blond hair blew gently in the wind.

The wind moved the leaves on the trees as well, the sweet smell of the mid-summer's eve carrying life into the forest. The corruption of the sick Greenwood had not yet reached the halls of King Thranduil and the beauty of old was just as great as it was ages ago.

"Showing him a bit of affection is no weakness."

"Mind your tongue, _taur' ohtar (ranger)_," the king warned. "I set an example for him."

"If you act so cold to him, you will do him no favor," Aragorn knew it was bold to speak against the King of the Woodland Realm in his own land, but he was doing it for his friend.

Legolas had known him back when he went by Estel. Other people treated him like he was some burden, given his heritage.

But to Legolas, he may as well had been the crowned King of Gondor, because his friend treated him with the highest of respect, and defended him against any enemy. Aragorn would do the same for him, no matter who he was speaking against.

"I must be cold to him!" Thranduil snapped. He saw the slight jump in the young ranger. He turned his back to Aragorn and more calmly, he continued. "My father, Oropher, was a very strong king. I have done well by my people for being strong as well, for bending to no one. I am no fool, I see a weakness in my son."

"A weakness?"

"But it is no bad weakness," Thranduil mused with a soft smile as he turned back. "He is kind...to all people. He concerns himself with the well-being of every orphan and commoner. He is all I have now, since his mother passed. He is all I have had for a long time. When he was a child, he could always tell when I was troubled. He'd say "_Ada_, what bothers you?" And he'd look at me with those eyes.

"My eyes, eyes of my father. Completely gentle and innocent in every way possible and I could never deny him anything. It is hard for me to deny him even now. I was wrapped around his finger and I know that I still am. Secretly, I listen to him more than any of my advisers."

"If this is true, then why do you not tell him any of it?" Aragorn inquired.

"Because, again, I have to be an example for him. You think me cold, but I am practical. If I stay like this and lock away my emotions, then hopefully he will follow suit, and when he rules he will not be so kind. He will not let people manipulate him."

Aragorn sighed, not expecting the king to confide in him so much. "Do you wish that you could tell him this?"

"Everyday of my life," Thranduil answered him. "And I would tell him much more; that he is the reason I wake up every morning and rule this realm. I would tell him that he makes me prouder than any father in Middle-earth. That he is more precious than anything to me, and that he is the best son I could ever imagine." Aragorn saw him put his index finger to his cheek, perhaps wiping away a concealed tear, but he couldn't tell.

"My King, I do not-"

"You are welcome to stay here," Thranduil answered with patience. "Legolas must hear nothing of this. I hope that an honorable young man such as yourself can respect that."

Aragorn nodded. "I can."

"_Mara Lomë (goodnight)_."

"To you, as well."

The Elven King of the Woodland Realm began to walk toward the doors of his hall, leaving the heir of Gondor alone in the fading twilight.

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